A stolen future
by piecesofshadow
Summary: Anerys is a simple boy with a simple life. His life changes in ways he never imagined when he leaves home to pursue adventure.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue – Leaving Home**

I wasn't born a hero.

I was a simple boy, with a simple life; a farm boy, born and raised in a small house just outside Riverwood. I was, for all intents and purposes, anonymous: I was known by my family and those who called Riverwood home, but to the rest of the world I was no one. I would live as a farmer and die as a farmer; my story would end the way it had for countless others before me. I knew from a young age that I couldn't bear to live that way. I wanted to be an adventurer; I wanted to travel, to slay monsters and hunt for treasure. I fought countless battles in my mind; in them, I was the people's hero, known and loved by all. I had an exciting life. I had a legacy to leave.

My parents had a different plan for me. My father worked the land and my mother sold fruits and vegetables in the village. They had no patience for my wild ideas, and didn't care much for excitement or legacies. They wanted me to live a quiet life and farm and take care of the family and never have any great adventures. It was a miserable thought.

I left home when I was 15. I'd packed everything I could fit into a small satchel I'd purchased in secret, and left in the middle of the night when everyone else was asleep. I could barely contain my excitement as I tip-toed out of the house and into the cool night, but as the house became smaller and smaller on the horizon I looked back with a feeling of guilt I hadn't expected. A lump formed in my throat. I knew my father would be angry when he discovered I was missing; my mother would probably cry. I swallowed hard and shifted the weight of the satchel on my shoulder. _Someday_, I thought, _I'll return to see them_. For now, the world waited.

I decided not to follow the road. I didn't want to run into any guards, who might have questions for a boy walking alone in the middle of the night, and I didn't want to be easy to find in case my parents sent someone looking for me. I'd heard people in the Sleeping Giant Inn talk of Whiterun, so I decided to follow the river upstream.

The night was calm, with only a slight breeze coming across the river. The moons were full and bright, but I wasn't familiar with the landscape this far from home and it was hard to see the ground in front of me. I picked through the low brush slowly; more than once I lost my footing and nearly fell. I had hoped to be in Whiterun with the sun, but it was looking like I'd be lucky to arrive by midday. I was beginning to feel a little trepidation about leaving, but thinking about all the things I would do in Whiterun kept me going. I'd never been in a real city before, and I didn't know what to expect. _Getting a room at the inn is at the top of the list_, I thought, stifling a yawn. I'd been up since dawn, and exhaustion threatened to overtake me.

The rustling of leaves nearby interrupted my thoughts. I stopped to listen. Waves lapped gently against the shore, and crickets chirped in the distance. _Am I hearing things_? I stood for a moment more before deciding it had been my imagination. I started moving again, but had only taken a few steps when I heard the rustling again, closer than before. Fear gripped me. I was being hunted. I reached slowly for my satchel. I had swiped a small dagger that my father kept for protection, but I'd never actually used it. My hand shook as I pulled it out and held it in front of me. I could slash and hack, but I didn't know if it'd be good enough to scare off whatever came out of the darkness.

Something wet and sticky hit me in the face. I stumbled, almost losing my footing. I tried to see what had hit me, but my vision was blurred. I reached up to wipe it away and was hit again, this time in the gut. I gasped as the wind was knocked out of me and I fell to my knees. The dagger, forgotten, dropped out of my hand as I clutched my stomach, desperately trying to get air.

Giant, hairy legs filled the darkness in front of me as the spider cleared the brush. It was something out of a nightmare; longer than I was tall, easily, with huge, curved fangs and beady black eyes. _Venom_, I thought. _It's been spitting venom_. Fear rooted me to the ground. The spider eyed me for a moment before rearing up onto its back legs, ready to attack. I rolled to my right and scrambled to my feet. I quickly searched the ground for my dagger, but it was no use. It was gone, swallowed by the brush and the darkness. Unfazed by my movement, the spider rushed toward me. Without the dagger, I knew I didn't stand a chance. I ran as fast as I could on shaking legs, hoping I was still headed in the right direction. The spider followed close behind, hissing. He spit again and hit me for a third time. My whole body shook, and it was getting harder and harder to see. If I didn't lose the spider soon, I would die – that I was sure of. I decided the river was my best bet; I was hoping the giant spider wouldn't follow me into the water. I ran down the bank. My legs gave out as soon as I hit the water, and I fell onto my stomach with a splash. The water was cold, and my arms and legs grew weaker and weaker as I tried to swim, further and further from the shore….

The spider stopped at the water's edge, hissing and spitting as it tried to hit me with its venom again and again. I worked my way downstream, half carried by the current, until the only sound I could hear was the rushing water. My arms and legs felt like they were made of iron and it was getting very hard to stay awake.

I dragged myself to shore and lay in the sand. I still felt sick from the spider's venom, and now I was dripping wet and shaking with cold. I felt for my satchel – I had packed all the clothes I could fit – but it was gone. I would have to deal with that problem later; right now, I needed to find somewhere out of the open to spend the rest of the night. I dragged myself up and trudged across the grass. My eyes were heavy, and every step was harder than the last. I found a fallen log not far from shore and crawled inside. This would have to be good enough. I closed my eyes and slept.

I was sore the next day, but I was alive. I crawled out of the log and looked around. The sun was up, and I could see the land around me much better than the night before. I'd ended up on the opposite bank, and the land sloped gently up in front of me. In the distance, I could see smoke. Whiterun was close.

I didn't get a heroic start, but I was undeterred. I continued on, ready to make a name for myself.

My name is Anerys, and this is my story.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N - Thanks for everyone who has read/reviewed the story so far! The story starts to pick up with Chapter 1. Hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter 1 – Running again**

Life away from home was hard.

I'd lost all my possessions - including the little coin I'd been able to save - on the way to Whiterun, and while the locals were nice enough, they weren't interested in giving away their hard earned septims to beggars or young boys. No coin meant no bed, so I spent the first few nights sleeping in the cold around the great tree that stood near the temple of Kynareth. I tried to get work from some of the locals with no success; I was young, unskilled, and weaponless. As I shivered at night, hungry and alone, I thought of home and my family. I wiped hot tears from my cheeks as I wondered if I'd made a mistake by leaving, if I'd die in a strange place, anonymous and alone.

Cold and hunger led me to the Bannered Mare on my third day in Whiterun. I hadn't eaten since I'd left home, and it was getting hard to ignore the aching hunger in my gut. Several merchants had set up stalls outside the Inn filled with fruits and vegetables. I went from stall to stall asking if they could spare any extra food, but they each just shooed me away. Stealing food had never occurred to me; I had never stolen anything in my life, and, hungry as I was, I didn't want to start now. I wandered into the Inn, wanting to warm up and hoping I could convince the publican to give me a bit of stale bread. It was much like the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, with a large, open common area warmed by a fire that burned day and night in a central pit, and doors off to each side leading to small, comfortable rooms.

Unlike the Sleeping Giant Inn, the Bannered Mare was bustling with activity. The publican hurried back and forth with plates of food and drink in between arranging rooms for guests, and a bard sang softly from a table in the back while visitors and locals shared meals and swapped stories. I stood close to the fire and warmed my hands. After spending several nights in the cold, I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever get warm again. When I saw the publican stop behind a small bar, I headed over.

"Hello, my name is Hulda," she greeted me cheerfully. "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering…um, I was hoping you had some stale bread. To spare." Begging still wasn't something I was used to, and it made me uncomfortable.

She looked me over with a stern gaze. I was still dirty from the road and sleeping out in the cold had made my back and legs stiff, making it hard to stand up straight. In that moment, I knew I looked as much the beggar as I felt. "For free?" She shook her head. "I don't give anything away for free."

I nodded stiffly, trying to ignore my hunger pains and the tears I could feel threatening to fall. I mumbled my thanks and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Hulda called out. I turned to look at her and could see pity in her eyes. "I don't give anything away for free, but we might be able to come to an arrangement. There's some firewood that needs chopping. You finish that, and I'll get you a plate."

I nodded my thanks and set to work.

I had a standing arrangement with Hulda and worked for her every day after that, chopping wood, cleaning up after guests, and generally keeping the place tidy. _Not exactly what I had in mind when I left home, _I thought as I cleaned one of the messier guest rooms, _but food and a place to stay is better than starving and sleeping out in the cold._

I'd been working for Hulda for a few months when a stranger visited the Bannered Mare one night just after dark. He was tall, with a dark traveling cloak covering his face and much of his figure. The Bannered Mare was exceptionally busy, as a group of travelers heading to Markarth had stopped for a few days respite the night before. More guests meant Hulda was running around more than usual, and her temper was short. Afraid of catching her wrath for not working fast enough, I kept my eyes on my sweeping and didn't pay him much mind as he paused to look around, scrutinizing the crowd before spotting Hulda and heading over. _Just_ _another travelling merchant, _I thought, stifling a yawn. I'd been up since dawn and was trying to finish the last of my chores so Hulda would allow me to eat and then collapse into my bed for the night.

He spoke in a low voice to Hulda, who greeted him less cheerfully than normal and asked if he wanted a bed and some food. "A boy?" she sounded annoyed. "We get many people in here, it's impossible to remember them all." She turned to move away, bottles of ale for the Markarth-bound guests in each hand. The stranger grabbed hold of her arm, forcing her to look at him. "I told you, we get a lot of –" she started, shaking free of his grip, but he cut her off. He pulled a coin purse from beneath his cloak and placed it on the bar in front of him. He was gesturing and speaking more urgently now, but the noise in the common room made it hard to hear what he was saying. I finished my sweeping and returned the broom to the back room. They were still speaking when I returned, but Hulda no longer looked annoyed. She was nodding to the stranger now, and looking out over the crowd. She spotted me and gestured for me to come over to the bar.

I thought she wanted me to get some food for the new guest, but instead she pointed to me and said, "Anerys. He's the newest here in town." The stranger turned to look at me and lowered his hood. I gasped in shock. He was streaked with dirt from travel, and despite the cold sweat stuck his sandy hair to his forehead. He was thinner than I remembered, but those gray eyes were the same. This was a face I knew from Riverwood, a face I'd grown up with – my uncle. He thanked Hulda and smiled at me. "I've been looking for you. It's time to come home, Anerys."

My mind was racing. I spent the first few weeks in Whiterun constantly checking over my shoulder, trying to stay out of sight of guests as much as possible in fear that someone would recognize me. No one had. I was just a local boy working to earn his supper. I became comfortable, and I dropped my guard. I lingered in the common room without a thought, and even talked with several of the guests that came through. Now I was panicking. I knew couldn't stay here, that was for sure – if I did, he'd have me on the road to Riverwood by morning.

I did the only thing I made sense. I ran.

I knew my uncle would chase me so I darted to the right and ran down a dark path that snaked behind several shops. I was hoping the dark would conceal me a bit as I made my way to the gates, stopping only briefly to collect a bag I'd stashed in a forgotten barrel. I'd started putting things away shortly after I started working at the Inn – a small sword I'd saved up to buy from doing extra work for some of the local merchants, food I'd saved from my daily meals – in case I needed to run. I hadn't saved anything for several weeks now, but I figured I had enough food to survive for several days if necessary.

I hesitated when I reached Warmaiden's. I was close to the gates now, but I knew my uncle would search the city for me. If he got to one of the guards, they would alert the others and I'd be trapped inside. Sticking to the shadows for cover, I crept around side of the building. I could hear commotion further up the street, and I knew my uncle had enlisted others to help find me.

As usual, two guards stood on either side of the gate that served as the only way in and out of Whiterun. They usually didn't bother people leaving at night, but with the commotion up the street I didn't want to take any chances. If they thought a crime had taken place, it was possible they'd keep everyone inside.

Someone I recognized as a local trotted up to the gate and spoke quickly to both guards. He turned and pointed back toward the Bannered Mare before running off again, followed closely by the guard furthest from me. _Now is my chance_. If I waited any longer, I was going to be stuck inside and my uncle was going to find me. I sprinted for the gate and pushed my way through, ignoring the shouts of the guard behind me. The road wasn't going to be safe, I knew, so I ran as fast as I could into the darkness, the city getting smaller and smaller behind me.

When I could no longer see Whiterun in the distance I collapsed to the ground, gasping for air and clutching a cramp in my side. I held by breath and waited, but the only sound I could hear was the grass stirring in a light breeze. For now, it seemed, I'd outrun them. I felt for my bag, thanking the Divines that I had enough sense to save some things. I fished out some bread and took a large bite, wondering where I'd go from here.

Without a map, I had no idea where I was headed. Sunrise was still hours away, and I decided it was best to put as much ground between me and Whiterun as I could. I stood and brushed the dirt from my legs. I hadn't expected to be running again so soon, but there was nothing I could do about that now. I would figure out where I was going when the sun came up_;_ for now, I'd just walk.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 **

It was raining in Riften.

I'd barely survived the trip to the southern town. I'd encountered what seemed to be the worst that Skyrim's wild had to offer: spiders and sabre cats, bandits and bears. I slashed and hacked and ran, and, weary, bruised, and hungry, I was glad to finally see the gates of Riften at long last.

I left Whiterun with no clear idea of where I was going; I just knew I needed to get as far away as I could, as fast I could. I stayed on the move the whole night and the following day. If my uncle had followed me, I'd hoped he would assume I'd head north of Whiterun, so I headed off to the east. To my knowledge, he hadn't spent a much time outside of Riverwood and wouldn't be familiar enough with the other Holds to give chase for very long.

It wasn't until I finally sat down to rest that I thought carefully about where I was going to go. I'd been fascinated with the map of Skyrim back at the Sleeping Giant, and spent many hours poring over it as a kid. I'd remembered that there was a town nestled between the mountains. It seemed far enough away that I wouldn't be found, and I didn't think I could handle the colder, northern Holds in my current condition. After a few restless hours of sleep, I headed in what I thought was the general direction that I had remembered Riften to be.

I'd been in Riften three days now. I spent most of my time with the town's beggars, hoping to get a scrap of food or a bit of coin from the market during the day, and huddled against the cold, wooden side of a building at night, trying to stay warm. Gone was my fear of being attacked by wild animals and bandits, but in its place was a fear of dying, miserable and alone.

When I wasn't with Riften's downtrodden, I was in the Bee and Barb. I felt a sense of normalcy in the crowded room, despite not knowing a soul. I didn't have much coin, so I usually just listened to the chatter of the common room. As the days slid by, I became more relaxed, and spent less time looking over my shoulder for my uncle. But I also knew that I needed to find work, and quickly. The proprietor had been quick to tell me that the Inn was only for paying customers, and I would no longer be welcome when my coin was gone.

That's how I found myself, three days after arriving, cold, tired, and to the point of starving. I was having trouble finding work – something that had been surprisingly easy to come by in Whiterun – and I was running out of options. I didn't have enough coin left to pack up leave, and besides, my body was still weary from the trip. For better or worse, I was stuck in Riften. At least for the time being.

I started to hang around the market during the day with several other beggars, hoping to find an opportunity to earn some coin. While most of the merchants in the square largely ignored the beggars that gathered around the daily market, there was one who seemed to go out of his way to make our lives miserable. If he even saw us near the square – whether we were headed to the stalls or just passing by – he yelled for the nearest guard and chased us away from the market.

I may have understood this behavior, if we had been scaring customers away or stealing from his cart. But we weren't. Yet he continued to devote most of his waking hours to making sure we weren't where he thought we shouldn't be.

I was starting to think that being associated with the other beggars of Riften was making it difficult for me to find work in town. I was young, unknown, and – in the eyes of others – untrustworthy. Even the smallest tasks like collecting firewood were denied to me.

I also suspected Samuel had a big part in this. When he wasn't putting beggars down, he was in the Bee and Barb, drinking and talking loudly to anyone within earshot. I hated him.

I'd been in the Bee and Barb most of the evening on my fourth day, using the last of my coin on all the food and drink it would buy me. Samuel came in well after dark, loudly greeting his friends and neighbors. He moved and spoke as if he was as powerful as the Jarl. The sound of his voice was enough to make me angry. I looked down at my meal, hoping to go unnoticed.

Too late. He saw me and immediately turned his attention to me.

"Beggar!" he called, his smile twisting into an evil grin. He took a tankard off one of the tables nearby and drained it. He slammed it down when he finished and wiped his mouth with the back of a beefy hand.

I gripped my mug until my knuckles were white. His friends laughed and joked behind him, and I could feel his eyes on me as he made his way across the room. I didn't have to look at him to know that he was getting ready for a fight. I stared into my drink, my grip tightening on the base of the goblet. If I wasn't looking at him, maybe he'd leave me be. If he provoked me, it would be difficult to hold my tongue.

"Beggar." He was standing in front of me now. I turned my eyes toward his and met his look of disdain and scorn with one of hatred. He smirked, cracking the knuckles of his clenched right hand against the open palm of his left.

The once-loud common room had gone silent. Everyone gathered there had their eyes trained on us, waiting expectantly for one of us to make the first move. I knew that he was well known, and I could expect no help here. I was on my own.

"Beggar." His voice was lower this time, and crueler. I knew he was taunting me, trying to force me into a fight that I would ultimately lose. He was bigger than me, and stronger, and I'd had very little fighting experience. I didn't want a fight; not here, not surrounded by these people, but I knew he wasn't going to let me off easy.

My knuckles were white from gripping my mug. I turned in my seat so I was facing him. "Samuel."

The raucous laughter that came out of his mouth surprised me. He addressed the crowd the way a bard would address an audience. "The beggar has courage enough to speak to me, like we are equals!" There was some nervous laughter from the room at large, but most remained quiet, eyes fixed on the scene playing out in front of them. The crowd was mostly men who had stopped in the Inn after a long day's work, but I also noted a few who looked like travelers, and a member of Riften's guard standing by the door. Samuel turned back to me. His eyes were cold. "Tell me, " he said, picking up my mead from the table and dumping what was left of it onto the floor, "how does a beggar afford mead?"

I held his gaze but didn't say anything. I crossed my arms in an attempt to keep them from shaking with anger and fear. If he struck me, in a room full of witnesses, I might be lucky enough to walk away relatively unscathed and without punishment.

His laughter quickly faded as the silence grew between us. "I'm talking to you, beggar!"

No one had come into the Bee and Barb during this exchange, which was unusual for this time of night. I swallowed hard and was about to speak when the door opened and a man stepped in from the darkness. His eyes scanned the common room, coming to rest first on Samuel before settling on me. He didn't make a move to approach the bar, preferring instead to settle against the far wall and watch. He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't recall his name – if I even knew it at all – or where I'd seen him.

The blow came when my attention was turned to the door. I felt my jaw crack as he hit me hard across the cheek with a fist that felt like iron. The punch nearly knocked me off my barstool. I barely had time to right myself before a second blow struck me, this time square in the jaw.

I could taste blood in my mouth by the time the third blow connected with my temple. The common room was loud now with the cheers and yelling of Samuel's friends. I struggled to my feet, dodging a fourth punch that likely would have broken my nose. The mead didn't seem to be slowing him down any, but it was making him sloppy. I backed up a step and he very nearly lost his balance as he moved toward me. I took advantage of the misstep and struck him with all the force I could muster. Spit and blood flew from his mouth as my fist connected with his jaw with a sickening crack.

The common room fell silent again and for a moment the fighting stopped. No one, including myself, had expected that I'd get a punch off. Samuel, looking stunned, absently wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

The yelling in the common room was deafening now, with many calling for my arrest. The guard was busy with several smaller fights that had broken out near the far side of the room, so I was able to fight my way through the crowd and get to the door, pushing away anyone who tried to get near me. I had to get out, and now. I knew that prison was the least of my worries. If Samuel caught up to me, he'd kill me.

Samuel lumbered after me, his red face twisted into a mean scowl and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. I was slowed by the amount of people in front of me, and he was soon close enough to reach out and grab me. I squeezed my eyes shut and covered my head, preparing for the inevitable punch. A loud metal _thunk _made me turn. Samuel was turned away from me now, and standing in front of him, a tankard raised in his right hand, was the man I'd seen come in before the fight started. Samuel made a move toward him, but the man had already moved to my side. Grabbing me, he pulled me out of the inn and into the darkness beyond.

Guards rushed in as we made our way through the city. The cells would be full tonight, and I had this stranger to thank that I would not be among those arrested.

Trying to stay out of sight, I followed the stranger through a dark alleyway before heading down the stairs to Riften's lower level. I'd never been below the city before. Before I had much chance to look around, the stranger shoved me roughly inside a door I'd never noticed before.

We entered a narrow stone hallway. In the dim light I could just make out the shape of the man in front of me. Water dripped somewhere in the distance, dripping loudly against the stone floor.

I followed the stranger deeper and deeper underground. The tunnels were setup like a labyrinth, and I started to wonder how I would find my way back. People had been living down here – broken bottles and the remains of old food littered several of the smaller rooms that opened off of the path we'd been following – and I was concerned I'd meet a few of them on my way out.

We walked for several more minutes before stopping in a dark room. The stranger grabbed a torch from the wall and stood in front of me. Accustomed to the dark, I squinted in the bright light. In the torchlight, I could see a bridge running the length of the room above my head.

"This is as far as I can take you, for now." Water dripping somewhere in the distance was the only sound I could hear. I had no idea where we were, or how far the tunnels continued beneath Riften.

I focused on the man in front of me for the first time. He was slightly taller than me, with dark hair framing a lined face. He moved with a graceful silence. I'd seen him before, I was sure.

"Brynjolf." Awkwardly, I held out my hand as he introduced himself but he ignored it and continued. "I've seen you around. Samuel has it out for you, it seems."

I nodded, instinctively turning my head to see if he'd followed. I was sure he was out there still, biding his time until he could get revenge for me striking him. I hadn't planned on leaving Riften so soon, but after tonight I might not have much choice.

"I've got a way to help you. Interested?"

I nodded, hesitating only slightly. I knew I would need the help, especially after tonight, but I didn't know this man, and I didn't know if I could trust him. For all I knew, he was working with Samuel, and this was just a trap.

"Well lad? What do you say?"

"Why should I trust you?" The words echoed in the empty room.

Brynjolf considered me for a moment. His face was serious as his eyes met mine.

"If I wanted to hurt you I would have done it already," he deadpanned. "I would have just left you in the Bee and Barb."

He had a point. Besides, this could lead to more work, which I desperately needed.

I nodded. "Good. Meet me in the market first thing in the morning, and we'll begin."

And before I could speak, he was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Are you sure this is going to work?"

It was early the next morning. I was standing in the square with Brynjolf, watching the merchants set up their stalls.

Not for the first time, I reached into my pocket and felt for the trinket. Brynjolf's help had come in the form of a small silver ring. It was plain, save for the small purple gem in the center. I ran my fingers nervously over the smooth metal of its rounded edge. It felt cool to the touch.

Brynjolf didn't offer any explanation about where the ring had come from. The plan, as he described it, seemed straightforward. I would plant the ring in Samuel's stall, it would be discovered and confirmed stolen, and he would be arrested.

Putting the plan into action was up to me. I knew that the hardest part was going to be planting the ring in the stall without getting caught. If Samuel saw me – and I was sure, after last night, he'd be watching for me more than ever – I'd lose my chance, and probably go to jail. It was even possible he'd kill me.

Samuel arrived later than usual, looking haggard. Dark bags lined his puffy eyes, and though the morning was overcast, he squinted as though the sun was shining bright. He spoke gruffly to the others who were gathered, like they were personally responsible for his current mood.

I nervously felt for the ring in my pocket again. On a normal day, the sight of Samuel was enough to cause me anxiety. Today, with so much at stake, I felt like I might pass out.

I had decided that the only chance I'd have to plant the ring and remain unseen was to create some sort of distraction. I'd managed to convince Olef, a beggar I'd first met when I came to Riften and had become friendly with, to help with the distraction in exchange for a few coins.

Olef would bother one of the merchants for some food – something that had been dropped or damaged and was no longer sellable. I knew Samuel would hear the exchange and come over. With his back to his stall, I could slip away unnoticed.

I was glad to have a plan, but I was also feeling anxious for my friend. I knew Samuel would shout for Olef's immediate arrest, I didn't want my friend to go to jail with no hope of paying his bounty. Hoping to give both of us the best possible chance, I decided it would be best for Olef to stay close to the outside of the market, where some of the merchants were friendlier and more tolerant.

The merchant I chose was a young-looking Dunmer woman who sold vegetables from a cart that sat near the entrance to the Bee and Barb. Olef had just opened his mouth to speak when Samuel, catching wind of the exchange, started over. I heard him call out and saw the other merchants turn their attention to the vegetable cart.

Samuel seemed angrier than usual as he moved quickly over to the other stall, his shoulders tense and fists clenched, cursing Olef the entire time.

I didn't hesitate. Haggard appearance aside, he still looked ready for another fight, and I wanted to get this over with. I slipped away from the market and hurried across the wooden bridge that would bring me to the blacksmith's shop. I kept my eyes focused on the scene playing out in front of me, willing myself to keep moving. Crossing the bridge, I crouched and cut across to the market and slipped into Samuel's stall.

Brynjolf wanted me to place the ring in a locked box Samuel kept on the shelf of his stall. I didn't have much experience picking locks, and my hands shook as I took the lockpick out of my pocket. I inserted the pick and turned it slowly. Meeting resistance, I immediately returned to the pick to the starting point. I only had the one set with me, and I couldn't afford to break them.

Samuel's voice could be heard clear across the market now. Kneeling, I could see Olef across the market, trembling as Samuel berated him. I knew I didn't have much time left. I took a deep breath and fiddled with the picks again, trying to turn them just right. I was relieved when I heard the click of the lock. I stuffed the pick into my pocket and lifted the lid of the lockbox just enough to shove the ring inside. I slammed the box shut and hurried out of there, heading back across the bridge.

Olef was standing between Samuel and the vegetable merchant as I approached. I hugged the rail of the bridge, hoping to give him a chance to see me before I reached the market. As soon as he saw me, I knew, he'd take off running.

He saw me and took off in the opposite direction, heading around the Bee and Barb and heading for the narrow alley to the right of the blacksmith. Samuel yelled after him, but didn't make any move to chase him. I told Olef to head for the tunnels Brynjolf had taken me to the night before, and I hoped he'd make it before being stopped by a guard.

Samuel headed back to his stall. Breathing a small sigh of relief, I headed for the Bee and Barb, where Brynjolf was waiting for me at the bar. The common room was pretty empty, as it was still early, and only the bar maid and one or two others were there when I arrived. I hurried over and took a seat next to Brynjolf. "It's done," I told him. My muscles shook with fear and adrenaline, but my voice was surprisingly calm.

Brynjolf said nothing. He drained his mead, threw a few septims on the bar, and stood up to leave. "Well, shall we go watch?"

Nothing unusual was happening in the market when we approached. Villagers were milling among the stalls, and the sounds from the blacksmith's forge filled the air. Samuel was standing behind his stall, looking bored.

We waited in silence for a moment, eyes fixed on the market. I was about to ask Brynjolf if anything was going to happen when I saw a guard approach from the gate. "A ring's been reported stolen," he said, looking around to each of the merchants in turn and moving slowly among the stalls. "Last saw it in the market. We're going to be doing a search of the stalls." With a slight gesture, he motioned for two other guards to join him, and the three of them spread out to search each stall.

Samuel objected to the search loudly, claiming that it was likely one of the beggars who had stolen the ring. "Always hanging around, causing trouble. It's one of them took it, no doubt."

The guards started with the stalls closest to the Bee and Barb, searching each one slowly and meticulously. When they reached his stall, Samuel stood firm, his arms crossed at his chest. "You won't find what you're looking for."

The guard stared back, unblinking. "Procedure," he said. "We're searching all of the stalls. Now stand aside."

Samuel glared at the guard a moment longer before reluctantly allowing him into the stall.

Samuel sold furs and small trinkets that didn't have appear to have much value. He sold them at a high price to visitors passing through Riften, and often bragged about how much coin he made, despite attracting only a few customers.

The guard lifted all the furs that neatly lined the front of the cart. Seeing nothing of interest, he moved onto the second row of items, and then the third. My pulse quickened as I watched. What if the guard only checked part of the stall, and left the box untouched? What if he noticed the box but didn't have him open it?

Next to me, Brynjolf stood unconcerned, watched the scene with disinterest. My chest tightened as I wondered if I had made a mistake, if Brynjolf was going to betray me after all. My mind raced to formulate a plan in case I needed to make a quick exit.

"What's in this box here?" I turned my attention back to Samuel. The guard was pointing to the lock box half-hidden in the stall.

"Personal belongings. None of your business," Samuel spat.

"Open it up."

Samuel bristled, his face reddening as his scowl deepened. He moved so he was in front of the guard, close enough for their faces to touch. In a dangerous voice he asked, "and what if I don't?"

The guard was unfazed. "Open it up, or spend some time in jail. Your choice."

After a moment's hesitation Samuel bent over to unlock the safe. "You beggars will pay for this!" he shouted, to no one in particular. The chest clicked open and the guard bent down to examine the contents. When he stood, he was holding the ring in his right hand.

Shock replaced anger on Samuel's face. "I didn't steal it!" he stammered, shaking his head wildly. "Framed! I was framed!"

His shouts faded in the distance as the guards hauled him off. Brynjolf chuckled, turning to me. "That'll take care of him for awhile." He regarded me for a moment. "That was well done, lad. If you're interested in more work, come find me. I'll be at the Ragged Flagon, down through the Ratway." And with that, he left without another word.

For the first time, I was feeling better than I had since I first left home.


End file.
